The Horseman of Death
by Product19
Summary: The Horsemen of the Apocalypse has been unleashed into the world prematurely. To postpone their appearance until the Apocalypse, God makes them all into sacred gears. With the holder of Death transferring to Kuoh Academy. How will this affect a particular bespectacled student council president? OCxSona.


**I don't own Highschool Dxd or any of the characters that appear in it.**

**However, I do own my OCs.**

'...' Inner thoughts

"..." Regular dialogue

**'...' Death talking in head**

**"..." Death speaking out loud**

* * *

Period: Great War

Blood was sprayed on the ground as Raziel finished off the last of the fallen angels. The battlefield around him was littered with dead bodies, angels, and fallen alike. The angels surrounding the area began cheering victoriously at the defeat of their enemies. However, Raziel did not share in their enthusiasm.

Being the seraph commonly referred to as the "Angel of Mysteries", his comrades never knew what exactly he was thinking. Somewhere, during the war, he began questioning if slaying his fallen comrades was what they truly deserved. Now, Raziel still considered falling to be a grave sin; a sin that he would never forgive. But, is slaughtering them truly necessary? Both the angels and the devils considered them to be the weakest faction of the three, Azazel couldn't compare to God or the four satins.

"Lord Raziel?" an angel asked halting Raziel's thoughts.

"It is nothing," Raziel said, snapping back into his usual persona. "let us go back to Heaven and celebrate our victory!" he yelled.

With that proclamation, he turned and started flying towards heaven with his comrades in tow.

* * *

Raziel walked through the Gates of Heaven, greeting those cheering his return. He would usually be happy at the number of angels coming to greet him yet; he had more pressing matters to attend.

On his way back to heaven, his thoughts once again drifted to the needless war against the fallen faction. The fallen, after all, were once his brothers and sisters, so he pitied them. Eventually, he concluded that he would seek counsel with God and express his thoughts. Hopefully, God will show mercy to them.

Raziel made his way through the crowd and proceeded towards the Seventh Heaven where God presides. When he made it there, he moved to knock, waiting for permission to enter.

"Come in, Raziel," God called.

With God's permission, Raziel entered the door and stood in a room of pure white. Before him, sat God on his heavenly throne. His throne was pure white, which matched the white robes he was wearing. The throne itself appeared to be a part of the floor; rising into the shape of a throne. God's right hand held a book, and his left hand lay casually on the armrest of his throne. His legs crossed comfortably; God peered down at Raziel with his naturally calm face.

"My Lord," Raziel said as he kneeled at God's feet. "I have come with a request."

"Please stand Raziel. There is no need to kneel," God exclaimed. "What is this request you have come to ask of me."

"As you wish my Lord, I have come to ask you to offer a cease-fire with the fallen angels," Raziel replied, standing up.

At that moment, Raziel felt it, a flicker in his wings. It was hardly noticeable but, his wings certainly turned black for a split second. It was the strangest feeling he had ever felt. It was a feeling that embodied freedom but also exilement. He looked to God in shock, and God stared back with a face that betrayed nothing.

"M-my Lord?" he questioned shockingly.

God said nothing at first instead, choosing to stare at Raziel.

"I'm sorry, Raziel, but I cannot do that. No matter what reason you may have for suggesting it," God stated bluntly. "How could I show mercy to those that once bathed in the light, as warriors of heaven, ultimately to choose sin over my love?"

"V-very well my Lord," Raziel replied still shaken. "However, if I may be so bold as to ask, for what reason did I almost?"

"Raziel, a seraph represents the pinnacle of angel evolution. You must show unyielding restraint in the actions you partake. You are an example of what all angels should strive to be, and because of this, I hold you and the other seraphs to higher standards. If you begin to doubt the actions of heaven, many more will follow in your footsteps." God explained. "Doubts during wartime never lead to anything good. It may appear cold but, to preserve heaven, I must be ruthless."

"I understand my lord. I'm sorry for taking your time for such a foolish request." Raziel said, still reeling. His piece said, Raziel turned and left the throne room in deep thought.

Though God's reasoning for being harsh towards him made sense, he didn't agree with it. For that second, he felt freedom yet emptiness. It occurred to him that the feelings he felt must be what fallen feel for the rest of their lives and, for the first time, Raziel completely sympathized with the fallen angels. God is undoubtedly known to be one of the most compassionate beings, but he is also known to be ruthless. As shown when he flooded the earth and almost wiped out every human.

All angels knew that these were characteristics of God, but he had only ever witnessed God's merciful side. To him, it was similar to looking at yourself in the mirror, only to realize the mirror was warped and didn't show what your appearance truly was.

Eventually, Raziel arrived at Zebel. Luckily, it appeared that all of the other seraphs had already retired for the night. He quickly made his way to his room and locked the door behind him. With his mind clouded and his body fatigued, he prayed to God for a good night of rest and fell into a deep sleep.

That had been what he prayed for; however, his mind had other ideas. He was in a barren wasteland that no other inhabited. He was sitting on a stool with two mirrors surrounding him, one at the front and one at the back. Raziel could see his face in the mirror at the front and the mirror behind him aligned perfectly with the front mirror to show his wings.

Raziel tried getting up out of the stool, yet he couldn't move at all. He was confined to the chair, staring at his wings in the mirror. Suddenly, his wings started to flicker violently. He was beginning to feel nauseous from continually wavering back and forth between the two. He felt his soul wavering between the light and dark. One side telling his brain that what God chose was wrong while the other was yelling for him not to listen. Eventually, he resolved himself to stay in the light and told multiple himself a multitude of times that he will not fall. His perseverance affected his wings positively. They began to slow down and eventually stop flickering. He stared at his wings; they were black.

"No!" Raziel yelled as he sat up in his bed. He frantically looked around the room in fear and noticed his surroundings. "Must have been a dream." He mumbled. Raziel then looked towards his clock, and it read "3:17". He flopped back down into his bed and turned his head to the side on his pillows. He then noticed his wings had come out in his fright. But the problem was that he couldn't see them in the darkness. Realizing something was wrong, he conjured a light spear to inspect them. The instant the light shone on his wings, he felt a multitude of emotions: grief, fear, but most of all, resentment.

"How had I fallen in my dreams?" Raziel bitterly said to himself. "God always said that it was actions that caused angels to fall, not what they might have been tempted to do! How could he allow me to fall when I had no control over it!"

By this point, Raziel had begun weeping into his pillow. All the love he had felt his whole life was gone, and there was no way for it ever to return. His grief slowly morphed into anger, and his anger soon turned into rage. Raziel got out of bed and made his way to Seventh Heaven. Luckily, the angels other than those guarding the gate to heaven bellow should be asleep.

He didn't bother knocking on the door to God's throne room; instead choosing to open it as slowly and quietly as possible. Most humans believe that God doesn't sleep but, decides to rest on Sunday. That isn't entirely true. While he does rest on Sundays, he still needs to sleep at night.

Raziel peered around the throne room door and saw that God was in his quarters, sleeping. He knew how lucky he was to have woken up before God had. Raziel knew that if God were awake, he would be cast out of heaven immediately. He made his way to the throne, wondering what he was going to do to get back at God.

The way Raziel saw it, he had wrongfully been chosen to fall, and he wanted an eye for an eye. If God had allowed him to fall in his sleep, then he would get back at God while he slept. He looked at the throne and noticed the book that God always kept in his hand, lying on the throne. He proceeded to pick it up and exam it though, he was not quite sure what it exactly was. The only ones that God trusted enough to tell were the self-acclaimed "Four Great Seraphs"; Thinking back on it, God always did favor them.

"This should do nicely," Raziel said to himself. He placed the book on the ground and produced the largest light arrow he could muster. Raziel knew he only had one shot, he would probably die in the explosion, and if he didn't. God and the forces of heaven would be on him in a moment's notice. He didn't care for his fate after falling he no longer had a reason to live. With his thoughts resolved, Raziel let the arrow fly.

God awoke to an explosion in the room next to his. He swiftly made his way to the door and found a fallen Raziel bleeding profusely. Along the ground, he saw a crater that contained his book. While there used to be seven seals on the book, only three remained.

"You fool! What have you done?" God shouted outraged. Suddenly, he heard four trumpets played very loudly signaling the coming of the horsemen foretold of in Revelations. The four trumpets resounded throughout the universe, letting all know of the arrival of God's mightiest warriors.

Firstly, Conquest jumped out of the book on his pure white steed. His bow in the clutches of his right hand. Secondly, War appeared out of the book clenching his greatsword while riding his blood-red steed. Thirdly, Famine lept out, clasping a scale and riding a night-black horse. Lastly, Death's ashen mount trotted out of the book. Death himself held his scythe casually in both hands.

"My lord, it is time, is it not?" They asked in unison.

"No, of course, it is not time!" God roared. "You were not supposed to be released for another few thousand years!"

The horsemen looked at each other in confusion.

"Then why were we released, my Lord?" Conquest questioned his eyebrows molding into a scowl.

God, not wanting to explain what happened, pointed to Raziel's corpse.

The horsemen looked at the corpse and then looked at each other.

"What would you have us do my Lord?" Famine questioned. "Once the seal has broken, it cannot be reapplied."

God furrowed his brows in thought until he seemed to come to a decision. "I will seal you all again but this time into sacred gears. When you gain consciousness inside your host, you will know that the apocalypse is close."

The horsemen all nodded their heads in understanding and, had their horses trot up to God. God took each of their weapons and laid them on the ground. He then raised his power and focussed it on the four horsemen.

The horsemen each felt a pulling sensation towards their respective symbols of power. The weapons began to glow in different colors, each reflecting their horse's color. The horsemen gained a metaphysical form, and each of their respective symbols absorbed them. The newly created sacred gears glowed and disappeared in a flash of light.

God let out a sigh after exerting the amount of power necessary to create four high-tier Longinus at once. He sensed Michael and the other Seraphs running vigorously towards his. God turned to look back at the System hovering above his throne and peered into it to see what had happened. When he realized what the System had done to Raziel, God changed the settings in the System immediately — deeply saddened by Raziel's fate. He turned to the throne room's door and ready to do damage control.

* * *

Period: Present Day

The thing that Akira hated the most in the world was alarm clocks. Hearing that constant beeping over and over again could drive the sanest man crazy. Typically, he only had to deal with it for a few seconds after waking up but, the damn thing wouldn't shut the fuck up today!

He kept pressing the snooze over and over again only for it to ignore him and keep making that rude noise. Frustrated beyond belief, he leaned over his bed and yanked the plug out of the wall.

"Thank God," he exclaimed groggily getting out of bed.

"**Aw come off it kid,"** Death cackled.** "Today's the big day. Don't want to be late right?"**

Akira grabbed his phone on the nightstand and to look at the time. It read 7:00, that's good he didn't need people thinking he a rebel for being late on the first day.

"I still have an hour and a half Death, that's plenty of time." Akira responded unfazed.

"**Whatever you say, kid." **Death replied, ending the conversation.

With his thoughts now on the outside world, Akira got out of his bed and observed his room. The walls were tan, and the floors carpet felt great on his feet. His bedroom had some clothes littered on the ground but nothing horrendous. He turned to the one oddity in the room; his chess set collection. He had thirteen unique, antique chess sets. Each had it's own design and board. He had to admit that the number of sets he had was a little excessive, but he couldn't help himself. Chess was one of the few passions he had.

His dad had taught him chess since the age of five. By the time he was fifteen, he could comfortably say he was among the nations best in his age group. He went into one of his drawers and grabbed a duster. He carefully dusted the pieces of each set, making sure each was pristine.

Once he finished dusting off his sets, Akira did his other morning rituals. Firstly, he took a shower, put his new school uniform on, which he had to admit wasn't too bad looking, popped some bread into the toaster, and made sure he looked good in the mirror of his bathroom.

His jet-black hair was combed to the left side of his head his bangs just above his eyebrows. His toned muscles were hardly noticeable with the school uniform. His face was pointed and had a serious to it. His eyes were stunningly silver, each slanted slightly, and his skin was on the paler side resembling a European descent. His face had a dangerously sharp look to it. He blamed his father for that.

The first thing his father had taught him was to never miss any meaning behind an opponent's move; Akira had taken the advice to heart. He began applying that to real life as well as developing a cold and calculative gaze. Everyone was his opponent, and Akira would not be blindsided; not again.

Finished getting ready he took a pair of fake glasses off the bathroom sink and put them on. While wearing them, he had a much tamer appearance that seemed to exude normality, which was the intended effect. He didn't want to scare away potential friends at school after all. If a supernatural being underestimated him thinking that he hadn't unlocked his sacred gear yet, that was just a bonus.

He heard his toaster go off in the kitchen and made his way to take it out. With toast in hand, he sat down on his couch and admired the space around him. He had to admit his parents did a pretty good job of picking put his ideal apartment. It was cozy and modest. Nevertheless, it had all of the necessities. The apartment complex was relatively close to Kuoh and also had a workout room that allowed him to do his physical training while remaining unnoticed.

With his toast freshly eaten, Akira grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and walked out of his apartment towards Kuoh Academy. Pacing down the sidewalk, Akira let his mind drift to the circumstances of his situation. Today was the beginning of his life away from home. He saddened at the memory of having to leave his family, yet he knew that doing so protected them from the dangers that came with his sacred gear.

He remembered it like it was yesterday; the day he got his sacred gear. He and his parents had just finished celebrating his graduation from junior high and were on the way home from dinner. The night lights of the city were on full display illuminating the ground around them. Cars flew by in flashes of light. He and his parents had been walking home when they came across construction workers redoing the sidewalk. His dad noticing how close they were to home, ushered them down a back alley that he had used as a shortcut multiple times in the past.

"Dad, I don't know about this. Did you see the way the construction workers were looking at us?" Akira questioned lowly.

"It'll be fine son," His father reassured. "That's why we got off the road plus I've taken this route multiple times before."

"Did you believe you could escape that easily." one of the construction workers sneered rounding the corner in front of them. He was closely followed by the other three that worked alongside him. The four stood menacingly in front of his family with their eyes glued to Akira's.

In return, Akira's dad stood protectively in front of his family. "What do you want?" His father said glaring. His eyes darted back and forth between each person in front of them ready and willing to protect the ones he loved.

The one who looked like the leader extended his hand and a spear of pure light shot forth towards them. Akira's fatherly instincts took over quickly moved in an instant, shoving him and his mother out of the way.

"Yuki" His mother yelled at his father horrified.

Akira looked over, shocked at the gaping hole in his father's thigh. He could hardly stand and was losing blood fast.

"I'll be fine Rin, run-" His father started only for the leader to backhand him, hard. Yuki dropped to the ground with a painful cry.

"Now then," the man looked towards Akira sprouting black wings. "I'll be taking that sacred gear from you, boy." He started towards Akira only for his mother to jump in front of him.

"I don't know what you are or what you want. But I will not let you touch my son," Rin said defyingly.

The leader seemed to be amused and motioned at his party to deal with her. They all grinned at each other and made their way towards her. One of their hands shot out and gripped his mom's throat. Evil intentions assured.

Akira made to move and stop them only for the leader to knee him in the gut his glasses falling off. Akira rolled onto the ground and looked up defyingly at the winged man in front of him. Akira wasn't quite sure whether it was his father getting a hole blown through his legs, his mother about to be defiled or if it was the action of being kneed in the gut with super strength. But Akira began to hear a voice inside his head.

**'Use me, kid,'** it spoke in a chilling tone.** 'Show them no mercy. You want to kill them, don't you? Show them who's host they are threatening.'**

Suddenly Akira felt a massive amount of power flow through him. On what seemed to be instinct, he held both his hands in front of him one facing upwards the other facing downwards. A weapon appeared out of nowhere in his hands. Akira wasn't exactly sure how he had done it, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He examined his newly acquired weapon for a second. It was an ancient scythe. The weapon had wood for a handle that extended up to a blade protruding out the side of it. The blade was a shade of silver on the concave portion of it, and the convex portion was black.

Akira swiftly looked around him, analyzing everything in his field of vision. The men on top of his mother had stopped before they did anything to stare at him. His eyes quickly moved to his father. He was passed out and still bleeding he didn't have much time left. He then looked towards the one that kneed him in the gut; the assumed "leader". Akira didn't give him the chance to react as he decapitated the winged man.

**'Ha, Ha, Ha! That's it, kid! Reap every last one of them!'** The voice exclaimed in his head.

Akira couldn't believe it. He was going insane. Men with wings had suddenly attacked them; he had started to hear a voice in his head only to conclude with him summoning an ancient-looking scythe out of thin air? He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind watching the other winged ones start to throw light spears at him.

**'Hit the spears with the scythe, kid!'** The voice coached in his mind.

Akira impulsively listened slashing at each and everyone one. The adrenaline in his brain fueled his reaction time. Each spear obliterated into specks the instant they came into contact with his weapon. The lackeys, troubled by his apparent skill, chose to opt for close quarters each making a spear while advancing.

As the first one got in Akira's range, he thrust his scythe forward. The man ducked below it and got in Akira's guard thrusting with his light spear. Akira swiftly turned his body to the side and felt an insane amount of pain graze his left side. Pushing through the pain, he rapidly brought the scythe back towards himself, cutting the man in half.

'Only two left.' Akira thought, holding his left side.

**'Kid. Throw the scythe.'** The voice once again intervened.

Akira, learning to trust this second instinct that had become sentient, raised the scythe vertically over his head and aimed. The one who he chose as his target moved into the air thinking he could outmaneuver him. Akira let the scythe fly with all his might. It reverberated through the air at surprising speed; bifurcating the man right down the middle. Weaponless, he looked towards the last one halting the advance of the winged man.

**'Now hold out your hand and try to call it back.'** The voice said, amused.

Akira, doing as instructed, held out his right in front of him." Come!" he called.

The last enemy believing it was a taunt continued forward only to have half of his gut ripped out from behind him as the scythe flew back Akira's hand. With the last of them defeated, Akira dropped to his knees in exhaustion; adrenaline no longer fueling him.

'**Well done, kid. You'll make a fine wielder! I'll save the details for later. The name's Death kid remember it.'** the newly proclaimed Death stated.

With the sound of Sirens in the background, Akira passed out.

Coming out of his reminiscence, he began to ponder everything that Death had taught him since that day. Death had given him invaluable information, and without it, he didn't think he could survive in the world of the supernatural. For example, the ones that had attacked him when he was with his family referred themselves as fallen angels - those that had cast aside God's love for freedom- vying after his sacred gear. He learned of the devils and angels, heaven and hell, and even the fact that most myths weren't myths at all. The most astounding thing that he had learned from Death was that God had died.

Even if Death was sealed away inside of his sacred gear, he still knew when and where anything died. He was Death after all, and that came with the job description. The thing that puzzled Akira nonetheless was that if God was dead, then how had all of the Angel's not fallen? What was heaven using to bless the church's if God was dead? How was it still functioning?

'**Stop monologuing kid. We're here.'** Death said pointedly.

'Sorry about that.' Akira responded sheepishly.

Akira, looking up, studied his new school. It had a reasonably big courtyard, filled with students, on their way to class. There was a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. The buildings themselves seemed very well designed. He got a roman influence from them with the number of arches it had.

Blending in with the rest of the student body, he walked towards his first class. Arriving earlier ten minutes early, he walked in finding a middle-aged man with brown hair and glasses behind a podium at the front of the classroom.

"Hello," Akira said kindly. "I'm Akira Fujikawa, the new transfer student. I'll be in your class for the rest of the trimester."

"Oh yes," The teacher responded, studying him. "Wait outside, please. Once the class has started, we will introduce you."

Akira nodded his head in confirmation walking outside the door, shoving his hands in his pockets. He found a place to stand on the opposite side of the hall, observing the students walking into his classroom. Four of them managed to catch his full attention.

They walked in pairs two in front and two behind. The front pair consisted of two stunningly beautiful girls with the grace and assets to match. One had flowing red hair that reached down to the back of her knees. She had teal blue eyes and flawless skin. She seemed to permeate confidence with each step she took. Her companion, on the other hand, had silky black hair that reached down to her ankles even though it was tied in a ponytail. She had violet eyes and a genuine smile on her face.

The pair in the back was just as beautiful in their own right. One was taller than the other and had air that reached down to her knees, similar to the redhead. However, her hair was black much like his. She had light brown eyes and wore sea green glasses with half rims. The one walking next to her had a no-nonsense attitude about her, which he could respect. She had a slim figure and wore glasses as well. Her night-black hair fashioned into a bob coincided nicely with her piercing violet eyes.

They were four of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Regardless, that isn't what caught his attention. He could feel a devil's aura rolling off of them as they approached. The redhead and the one with a bobbed haircut one with glasses looked at him curiously, entering the classroom.

His eyes snapped shut, trying to sense their power. The two that looked at him had power on par with a standard high-class devil; the other two had less power more along the lines of an above-average middle-class devil.

'The two that looked at me must be the kings, mid-level high-class devil strength each,' Akira observed. 'and the other two must be each one's queen. If I had to place myself in devil ranking, right now I'd be about a slightly above the average High-class devil. If shit hits the fan, I could probably take them both on solo but if their peerage was with them...'

'**You're selling yourself short, kid.**' Death interjected. "In balance breaker, we could easily take on either one of them!'

'Each peerage at the same time?' Akira questioned knowingly.

'**By themselves or with backup, you'd find a way to win in the end.' **Death replied smugly.

The teacher opened the door, suspending Akira's internal conversation, waving him in. Akira started towards the door continuing his debate.

'It's not like I'm going to antagonize them Death. They are at a school getting an education. I doubt they are as bad as the stray devils we've fought. I'm just precautious. By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.' Akira recited.

'**Heh, whatever you say kid.'** Death conceded.

Walking through the door, Akira turned and faced his new classmates. Putting on the front of being a friendly and naive guy, he smiled towards his class, walking towards the middle of the room.

"Introduce yourself to the class." His teacher instructed.

Nodding his head at the teacher, Akira finally spoke.

"My name is Akira Fujikawa. It's nice to meet all of you."

* * *

**Author's Note: I hope you liked my first chapter of The Horseman of Death. It's actually an idea I've had for years now and I finally sat down to do it. That being said, all of the ideas I've come up with for the direction of the story and the powers for each horseman's gear are my own. It is not my intention to steal someone else's idea. If this is the case please PM me with a link so I can proceed accordingly.**

**Now, I am torn between making 3 more OC's for each horseman or having some characters already existing unlock them. So feel free to leave a comment on which you would prefer. I'm currently leaning towards already existing characters because too many OCs could become confusing.**

**-Product19**


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